A Good Hare Day
by Conn8d
Summary: Easter is never easy. Jackson, April, and their family on Easter. Very AU.


**A/N: ****And here we are, at another holiday, getting another peak into Japril's family in the future. I got a request for a story with a little Riley focus, so I got some inspiration there and it's a little different from some of the previous stories. Really not sure I like it at all, but I figure I will post it anyway. Sorry to be one day late from Easter, but we can just call it April fools! I had a busy weekend, don't judge. :) For those waiting I am working on the next Shane chapter, so keep a look out for that. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!**

* * *

"Come on, Rifi, we have to leave soon."

Jackson frowned and knocked again on his daughter Riley's bedroom door. He leaned close to the door and listened to his ten year old's reply.

"I'm not going! I'm not doing it. You can tell Pastor John I got sick!"

He sighed, "You're going to be fine. I promise."

Hovering in a cluster in the hallway behind him, Conner, Hannah, and Simon looked on with interest.

"Are we gonna be late?" Hannah asked, in that loud whisper that only a child can think is truly quiet.

Her older brother rolled his eyes, and muttered, "We're always late. Especially when Mom's not here."

It was Easter morning and they were, of course, running late. Normally on Sundays when they went to church, the Avery family arrived just in the nick of time, managing to file into their customary seats near the front, right before the religious services began. That was with April Kepner and a list urging them on.

But April wasn't here right now. A small plane had crashed into a residential area in Burien the previous night, and she'd gone in to supervise the trauma team as they dealt with the casualties. She'd been there over 8 hours already, and had told Jackson over the phone that she would meet them at the church as soon as she possibly could. He knew she'd try her best for both the patients and her children. Whether that meant she'd make the part of the services or just the picnic afterward was unclear.

Either way, Jackson was a little afraid his wife was going to have to miss their daughter's big moment in the holiday service.

Riley had been a little unruly all weekend, but Jackson didn't hold it against her really because it was obvious she was nervous for her big speech. She'd been voted by the Fairview Church youth group to say a few words and do a reading as part of Easter Sunday services and some of her nerves had manifested themselves as the usual backtalk and Hannah teasing the previous day.

Knowing exactly what was fueling Riley's actions, April had talked her down, and Jackson considered the rest of their 'Holy' Saturday evening a success. He'd thought, that would be enough to sort things out. He'd thought it would be smooth sailing this morning.

Of course, it wasn't, and now Jackson was talking through a door as his nervous but defiant daughter was hauled up in her room, 10 minutes after the time they should have left the house in order to make in to the church with enough breathing room to talk to the other worshipers in the lobby before the service got started. They'd need to leave within the next 10 minutes so as not to arrive embarrassingly late, and not slink in to sit in the back many minutes after Pastor John started his sermon.

And Jackson wasn't entirely sure how he was going to make that happen. Riley was...Riley. She'd never been easy, and Jackson was not usually that good at dealing with her. His wife was better at it than he was. And right now April wasn't here to fix things.

He knew it wasn't his wife's fault that a major trauma came in the night before Easter, but her absence was hard on Jackson. He'd been tasked with getting all the kids ready, _church_ ready, _noon Easter Service_ church ready, all on his own. Easter Sunday was a big deal, and not just because of religious importance as far as Jack son was concerned. To him, the spiritual side of things was the least of the appeal. It was the one time he felt a little of his "Avery legacy" peak through his carefully constructed nonchalance.

Maybe is was his competitive nature. Maybe it was vanity. Maybe it was yet another secret outlet for his love of fashion (kind of like the passion for sports shoes). For whatever reason, Jackson had always made a point of making sure that in general, at church, and particularly at Easter, his family was dressed to the nines. On more than a few occasions, following the post service church picnic, Jackson and April had hauled the kids to get professional pictures taken of every one looking fly. In fact, last years image was the one Jackson had picked for his and April's bio on the Harper Avery Foundation's official directory.

April liked Easter because of it's spiritual meaning. The kids were pretty much into the holiday for the candy. Jackson was all about the clothes.

But getting four kids up and dressed all alone was no easy task. Jackson had had to make breakfast, comb Hannah's hair, find Simon a new tie after a chocolate egg accident, and everything else. The whole thing was tiring. He'd already managed to get all the hair done, and the matching pastel clothes coordinated and the ties knotted. Now, he just wanted to get his family to where they we re sup posed to be, when they were supposed to be there.

Groaning and looking at his watch, Jackson turned to his older son, "Conner? Can you take these two and get them into the car and all buckled in?"

"I guess," Conner replied with a sigh, long since over the novelty of being the oldest, and often tasked with being another set of hands for his parents. He waited until the trio had made their way downstairs before speaking again.

"It's okay to be scared to talk at the podium, Riley," Jackson soothed through his daughter's closed door, and thinking of his own history of clamming up in front of cameras. "Public speaking isn't easy, but that's okay. You know everyone in church is going to be happy to hear you talk. No one will make fun of you or laugh or anything..."

Jackson inched closer and gently opened the door, sticking his head in and scanning the room for his daughter. She was sitting on the floor, looking miserable with her knees drawn up to her chest. She rested her head on her white stockings.

"I'm not afraid of talking, Daddy!" Riley snapped.

Of course not. She'd never admit to that . Even though, it was obvious that she was. Jackson made his way over to the wall and slid down to sit beside her.

"Then why don't you want to go?"

Riley chewed the insides of her cheeks and rocked from side to side, "I just don't!"

* * *

April stood at the edge of the operating table looking on as one of her best residents, Moira Rivers, worked quickly on one of four people injured by a small plane crash late the previous night. An elderly couple had been asleep in their beds, along with their adult daughter and one granddaughter when the air craft hit their home. Remarkably, the pilot and passenger ended up unharmed, and the fuel in the plane's tank had not ignited, so there was no explosion or fire to worry about. And all the women in the house actually ended up suffering from more minor cuts and bruises which was extremely lucky.

April never ceased to be amazed by small miracles.

The grandfather in the home was not as lucky as his family however, and April was supervising Rivers repair of his crush injuries. She knew that most attendings who allowed 5th years to take the lead, enjoyed a really hands off approach, reading magazines or texting in some far off corner of the OR. April liked to give her residents complete control, and responsibility for the case, but she also scrubbed in and payed attention to what they did, offering compliments or corrections as she could, if they seemed needed. Mostly she just observed silently. Nine times out of ten, just being there for them, interested in what approaches they took, and the decisions they made, seemed to be enough. Having faith in them, and taking an interest in them made a difference.

5th year wasn't going to last forever, and it as only so long that the residents had any sort of safety net under which they could learn, and April always tried to make sure that they felt the support from her while they still had it. She didn't really know if it was right, but that is how she'd run her trauma department since she'd been in charge.

Fortunately, today, April was glad that she was there, even though observing this procedure was cutting in on both sleep, and her own family Easter. Rivers was good, but the severity of this patient's injuries would challenging for anyone, let alone a resident.

"We've got another bleeder!" Rivers said, shaking her head, and shifting uncomfortably. It was clear that the young surgeon was becoming frustrated, and April leaned forward to get a better view. The patients breathing and heart rate were stable, and his blood loss was still in acceptable parameters, all things considered.

"You can shut it down," April answered calmly. "See the rupture in the vein? About a centimeter. It's not catastrophic yet."

The young resident quickly moved to stem blood flow, "Okay...I...I think I have got it."

"You do, that's good," April smiled behind her mask. Rivers was a little nervous and frustrated, but she was better than she knew. "Keep in mind for cases like these; the law of energy, okay? All that energy from the plane was transformed to the patient. Most of his blood vessels are going to be weakened and subject to rupture, from the pressure alone."

Rivers eyes widened behind her mask and she nodded, pointing to another damaged vein, "So...looks like that one is going to be next."

"Correct. Try to stay ahead of them if you can."

"I'll try..."

"You're doing great," April added genuinely.

She knew that her resident was capable of doing a good job. Rivers was one of the best surgeons she'd ever had the pleasure to teach as a matter of fact. But, the young woman wasn't exactly a star surgeon at Seattle Grace, and April knew for a fact that she'd been passed over as Chief Resident for her year, in part because all of the other attendings on the hiring committee thought Rivers lacked confidence in her own work. April saw something of herself in this surgeon, so she was willing to take the woman under her wing a bit.

Glancing at the large clock on the OR wall, April's thoughts turned to another capable, but slightly insecure girl she knew. Her daughter Riley. It was now 11:21 am. She'd been at the hospital nearly eight and a half hours. Jackson and the kids were likely to just be leaving for the church. If they wanted to be on time. With some guilt, April thought about how nervous she knew her oldest daughter would be in advance of her small role in Easter Sunday services.

The ten year old might not let on that she was feeling anxious, and she'd never admit to being anything other than "Fine". Riley's fears and neurosis manifested themselves in other ways, which she knew all to well. April felt guilty.

The moment she'd arrived at the hospital late last night, it was clear that the surgery was going to take a significant amount of time. She'd planned to get home before her children woke up. She'd wanted to spend the morning eating breakfast with them, dealing with Easter baskets and showers.

April had planned to also use the morning before church to buoy up Riley's confidence as well, and knew that would likely not be possible. She'd been forced to ask Alex to help her get her clothes on his way to work, and barring any major complications with this patient, she knew she'd be lucky if she made it to the church service at all. It wasn't like she didn't trust her husband to get the kids set to go. Jackson was a very hands on father, even if he felt unsure about things with Riley.

But it still made April feel like a bad mother. It wasn't the first special moment in her child's life that she'd been forced to miss because of her job. She remembered each and every one. April had missed Conner's 5th grade graduation because of a pile up on the I-5. She'd missed Hannah second ballet recital because of bar brawl turned bad. Richard Webber had ended up chaperoning Simon's very first class field trip. Riley had scored her first soccer goal during a huge landslide that brought in 6 critical traumas to April's pit.

And Riley took everything so much to heart, and stewed over everything so deeply, April knew that it would be a blow to the girl not to have both her parents present for her speech in church. She and Jackson always made a point to make sure that at least one family member, whether April, Jackson, Catherine or someone else close, was at any and every thing their children did, from spelling bees to t-ball games.

But every time April wasn't one of those people, she felt bad.

"Some way to spend Easter," Rivers said glumly, as though she sensed her attending's thoughts. "You probably would rather be with your kids, huh? I shouldn't have paged you..."

The steady monitors of the patients vital signs droned along in the background and they continued to repair all the man's internal injuries. He was doing so well for everything that had happened to him, and April realized that his and his family's Easter was just as important as her own family's.

Her kids would be fine, whether April made it to church with them or not. They would understand, and if they didn't, she would help them to. It was having time together that mattered, not necessarily when that time was. Once, missing out on Easter services would have seemed sacrilegious. As a child, she might have even considered it to be a sin. Now, however, April had a much more pragmatic approach. The time she spent with her family, whether a holiday or not was valuable and cherished, just as any Sunday she spent in church or any moment she spent in prayer was just as meaningful as the time she might spend there on Easter.

"You did the right thing," April comforted. "I told you to call me if you were out of your depth. I meant that. With any luck we can help make sure this guy's family spends another Easter all together."

* * *

"Well, I think you might be a little nervous is all," Jackson soothed, still trying to coax his daughter out of her room. "There's nothing wrong with that..."

"You don't understand, Daddy!"

Jackson sighed. He probably didn't. It was times like this when he missed his in laws the most. Particularly his mother in law. In life, even all the way from Ohio, Karen Kepner had always known how to get through to her granddaughter, even more so than April and certainly more than Jackson himself. Karen always knew just what to say to Riley to make her feel better, and now she wasn't here anymore. Which was hard on all of the family.

Jackson hated to admit it, but he knew that out of all of his children, he was the least close to his older daughter. It was a terrible truth, that made him feel like a bad father.

He sometimes felt like he didn't know Riley well at all. Conner and Jackson talked a lot about almost everything, and Hannah was so much like Jackson that he felt he understood her the best. And even though Simon was only five, and a little precocious, Jackson felt like he had a better idea of what made the boy tick than he did Riley.

April told him not to worry about it so much, because their daughter was a preteen, and that usually involved a lot of moodiness anyway. If nothing else, Jackson knew Riley was a stubborn thinker. She was always processing and ruminating over something. She was more than snark and books. Much more.

He could remember the first time he'd realized that. Riley had been really small, not quite four; right before Hannah was born. They'd gone to the mall to get her ears pierced because it frustrated April t hat so many people mistook their daughter for a boy. At the time, Jackson had refrained from pointing out that the name Riley, combined with her dark curls kept short to avoid tangling, and wearing Conner's hand me downs also played a role in people's confusion.

Riley had fussed and screamed all the way to there, but had become completely over come with curiosity when she'd seen the machine that would do the job. She was so infatuated by the process of it all, that she'd shed only a few tears when the deed was done, and the earrings were placed in her ears. She'd reached out t o learn more about the machine's that pierced her, only to be scolded away. The real crying that came when the family left the place had nothing to do with pain Riley felt in her earlobes. She was mad they didn't let her examine the tools, and asked about seeing them for the rest of the week.

"Help me to understand," Jackson said finally, leaning forward so that his blue green eyes lined up with hers.

That was the thing though. Out of all the children, Riley's physical features most resembled Jackson. Everyone said so. From the faint freckles across her nose to her expressive forehead. She was the only one of the four to inherit his eyes. She looked like him, which somehow made it even more maddening that she was so perplexingly different than Jackson.

"I don't know," Riley said uncertainly. "It's religious stuff. You're not good at that...Gramma says you only go all the time because of Mama. I wish she was here."

"Please?" Jackson pressed, glancing at his watch and resigning himself to the reality of his family's lateness. They had 5 minutes before they absolutely needed to hit the road. He might not be the most religious man around, but he'd gone to church long enough with his wife that he felt he could offer some help. He was more spiritual after all of that than he had ever been before getting married.

"Try me. I just want to help you."

"But," she sighed, finally lifting her head from her knees. "You don't really care, and you'll still make me go, even if I don't want to."

Jackson winced. Ouch. He did care.

He paused, "If you explain to me what's going on, and you still really don't want to go...I won't make you. Conner can drive the kids to church, and Mom can meet them there for the picnic . We don't have to go. We could just hang out. You and me."

Riley's eyes widened, "Really?"

"Absolutely. Of course I care, Riley. What makes you think I wouldn't?"

The girl shrugged, "You never said. And you never want to just talk about things with me. You always tell me to talk to Mom instead. You like doing things...going driving with Conner or to the park with Hannah and Simon. I don't always wanna do stuff. Sometimes, I just want to talk."

Jackson sighed. He knew that he was not always up for the kind of philosophical discussions Riley always seemed so keen on. He'd never been so big on worrying about existential crises or big religious discussions. He could recall many a time when Riley's head appeared from behind a book all bright eyed, asking questions like "Do you think we are the only beings in the universe?" or "Or if a tree drops in the woods and no one hears it does it still make a sound?" or"If God knows everything and can do everything why wouldn't he stop wars?"

Jackson wasn't good at that sort of thing, and it didn't often interest him. He almost always passed the job of fielding questions like that to his wife. How many times had he directed Riley to talk to April while he busied himself playing catch or riding bikes or something with the rest? She was a better sounding board than him, any kind of worked out like that. Or so he thought. Two by twos. Conner and Simon playing against Hannah and Jackson playing basketball, while April and Riley were inside worrying about how the world worked. It was an easy pattern to fall into, but thinking about it now, Jackson understood that it might make Riley feel like he didn't care.

"Okay," Jackson said quietly. "I get that...but it's not that I don't care to talk to you. I care a lot. I'm just afraid I'm not smart enough to keep up with you."

He smirked and nudged Riley making her laugh, lightening the mood, "What's going on now?"

"I guess I am not afraid of actually talking...so much as...I'm...afraid of what I have to say," she admitted quietly. "Like...if I say something I am not _sure_ I really mean, then...I dunno."

Jackson frowned, "What are you not sure you believe?"

Riley sat up and pulled a piece of paper from her lap, "Well...you know how I am reading from the Acts of the Apostles?"

"Uh, sure..." Jackson had heard her practicing it a few times, at least.

"Do you know what it says?"

"To be honest, not really."

Riley bit her bottom lip and chuckled, "Well, I have to say, 'Jesus was put to death on a cross. But three days later, God raised him to life and let him be seen. Not everyone saw him. He was seen only by us, who ate and drank with him after he was raised from death. We were the ones God chose to tell others about him.'"

"That was great," Jackson complimented her recitation. "No tongue twisters. You sound awesome."

"I know, I memorized it."

"What's the problem then?"

"What it means!" Riley huffed, leaning her head against the wall. "Basically, it's saying that some people, Christian people in particular, are better than others. Special. Chosen. I'm not sure I believe that. Or...I'm not sure I wanna believe that. It's not really fair."

"Well, isn't that what they always say? Life isn't fair?"

"But then...you're always saying that...we're Avery's but that shouldn't make us feel like we're better than other people. Because we're not. People are people. You always say that we have to be polite and be humble. If someone can be more special than others because they believe in Jesus, then that means that we can be more special than other people because of your grandfather and all the money and everything. That doesn't seem fair."

Jackson ruefully smirked to himself. It somehow seemed his lot in life to deal with women he loved grappling with their belief systems. First April, after San Francisco and now with Riley, who's interest in this sort of thing had increased ten fold in the past year. He just didn't really think he had much to offer them in assistance.

Riley continued, "Why would God make everybody, but then make some people 'better'?"

"Why do you have to think about it so much?"

The young girl shrugged, "I don't know...I just...if I am going to say something, I want to really believe it."

"So, this isn't so much a stage fright thing as an integrity thing," Jackson concluded, looking around the room.

"Yeah..."

He looked at his feet and frowned in thought. Jackson didn't really have any answers for his daughter. He'd never really had any answers for April either. He only knew what he'd dealt with in his own life, "I used to feel like it was pretty unfair to come from the family I came from. I used to try and hide it because I thought it would mean getting ahead because of my name. Which _is _unfair. At the same time, I realized that I can't change who I am. So I had the responsibility to use my name as best I could. That's why I do stuff with the Harper Avery Foundation. Give something back, because I know I got lucky."

Riley leaned up against his shoulder and peered up at him, "So...you think that is what the Apostles are talking about? Like, because supposedly when Jesus rose from the dead and they saw him, it became their responsibility to remember it and tell people about it?"

Jackson shrugged, "Maybe...maybe not. It's just one way of looking at it and there is more than one way to look at everything."

"But-"

"But," Jackson held up a finger. "I don't think you need to worry so much about finding all the answers to everything. You don't have to have all the answers right now. You're only ten. Besides, no one has all the answers. If you say your speech today, and it turns out that later you don't really believe all of it, that's okay. People change, grow, learn more. "

Riley didn't answer and seemed lost in thought. Outside the blaring sound of a car horn reached their ears. Conner and the kids must be getting antsy. He looked at his watch. 2 minutes. If they left right now, Jackson thought that they could still make it to the church in time.

"Do you still want to try to go?"

"I think I do," Riley answered disbelievingly. "But do you think we can make it?"

Jackson grinned, and pulled himself to his feet, holing out his hand to help Riley up, "I think we can. I might have to speed, but we won't tell Mama."

* * *

April knew she was dreadfully late as she pulled into the parking lot of Fairview church and the smell of barbecue reached her nostrils. It was nearly 3pm, and all of the congregation was outside. A lively Easter egg hunt seemed to be well underway, and in the sunny spring weather. She'd definitely missed the service, along with Riley's reading. Damn it. At least the patient pulled through his surgery. And, surveying the pack of screeching children running around searching for colorful plastic eggs, April spied her own children. Riley included, so things can't have gone so horribly.

Smiling politely in greeting as she passed the familiar members of her church, April cast around the crowd for one familiar form in particular. Her husband, Jackson. She wasn't surprised when she found him standing near the food table, plate in hand. Wearing his best silver suit and looking as dapper as ever. Even with a mouthful of cake.

Sneaking up behind him quietly, April playfully smacked his bottom and reached over to steal a cookie off the side of his plate.

"Hey!" Jackson protested, spraying cake crumbs from his mouth. "That's mine."

April took a giant bite of the cookie, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, "I'll pay you back."

"You better," he smirked, swallowing his mouthful of food and regarding his wife more seriously. "Everything go okay at the hospital? That was a long surgery."

"Yeah. The patient got through the procedure. Stable for now. His family is with him."

"Good...good that's great. A plane hitting a house is freaking crazy."

"It really is," April agreed, letting her gaze drift off to where all the children were playing.

Too old to really enjoy and egg hunt, Conner was leaning against a tree, fidgeting to loosen his tie and looking bored out of his mind. Hannah was deep in the throng of other children, seemingly battling hard to find the most eggs. Simon appeared to be a little hyper active and kept running around the rest of the group, clearly not paying attention to looking for eggs, no matter how much Riley seemed to be trying to help him. All four children looked great, and she had to give Jackson credit for getting them ready.

"Mama!" Simon screamed, rushing to his parents when he realized that his mother was at the picnic.

April lifted him to her hip and grinned, "Hi, buddy! Are you having fun? Did you find any eggs?"

"No!" Riley answered as she followed her brother over, and leaned against April. "He keeps getting distracted..."

"I found a frog!" Simon explained excitedly. "But Riley said I couldn't keep him."

"Well, yeah," his sister shook her head. "What are you going to do with a frog?"

"Play with him, keep him..."

"Put him in your pocket," Riley continued. "Cuz that's a good idea. It's better to just leave him alone."

Jackson laughed, and lifted Simon from April's arms and high into the air, eliciting uncontrollable laughter, "You know, I bet you could still find a few of the eggs if you let your sister help you."

After a few more minutes of chatting, Jackson and April watched as the siblings skipped back to the Easter egg hunt. Keeping a close eye on her older daughter, it seemed that the girl was in good spirits, and in no way crushed or embarrassed.

"So...how did Riley do?" April asked, feeling a pang of her guilt return.

Jackson's chest swelled with pride and he grinned, "She was awesome. Witty, funny; didn't miss a beat. Conner and I got it all on video."

He slipped his phone out of his pocket and passed it to April.

She wrinkled her nose, "You used the phone in church?"

"It was for a good cause," he laughed, pressing play and letting the video play out.

April watched intently, straining to hear the recording over the noise of the picnic. It brought tears to her eyes. Riley looked so poised, and she was so well spoken. Her daughter looked so grown up.

"Next thing you know, my mother will be having her give the keynote at some Harper Avery Foundation gala," Jackson joked, wrapping one arm around April's shoulder as she sniffed.

"Maybe..." April mused. "Did she get nervous this morning?"

Jackson nodded, "A bit. I handled it. She didn't have stage-fright or anything. She's great in front of a crowd. She was worried about all the meaning.

"I know." April and Riley had had a long and somewhat circular discussion about that very topic the previous night.

"But we figured it out." Jackson joked, "I'm like, Aristotle Avery...Averystotle."

She swatted his stomach and laughed, "Oh yeah?"

"She was hiding in her room, until I talked her out."

April leaned closer to her husband and beamed, "See, I knew you could. You always act like Riley is so complicated. But she's really-"

"Just like you." They both said in unison.

Jackson blinked, "What? She may look like me, but otherwise Riley is just like you."

"Um...who walks away and sulks when things don't go the way he wants them to?" April glared.

"Who is it always trying to uncover the mystery of God, science, and the universe?"

They started at each other seriously for a minute, before bursting into laughter. Everything Jackson and April pointed out about each other was true, for both themselves and their daughter. Riley had more than a little something from both her parents temperaments, for whatever it was worth. And for that reason alone, suddenly all the struggles she and Jackson had ever had with their own personal weaknesses and the pain they'd caused seem worth it. Because they'd learned how to deal with all of it, and how to cope with being themselves. And everything they'd learned, was something they could and did teach Riley, and all the children.

Missing Easter, or ballet recitals, or soccer games and the rest didn't matter as much, so long as you made the effort to make the most of the time you spent teaching your family. Letting your children know that they were special and loved.

_How_ time was spent, mattered far more than _when_ you spent it.


End file.
